


Fascination

by merr



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, M/M, Not In Love - Crystal Castles (ft. Robert Smith), Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 18:36:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merr/pseuds/merr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <a href="http://endlessvideo.com/watch?v=xsV8TrF4gN0">Not In Love - Crystal Castles (ft. Robert Smith)</a>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fascination

Jack stared at the inside of his front door, the slam of it ringing in his ears -- it wasn't near as loud as his voice had been mere minutes before, but the finality of it paired with the late-night silence of his house was like a flashbang.

 _You don't hear the shot that kills you_ , he thought numbly, hands still wringing the top rung of the kitchen chair in front of him. Try as he might, he couldn't remember, in all his life, an emptier victory.

Daniel drove perfectly on his way home -- never a tick above the speed limit, each turn as smooth and controlled as a fish cutting through dark water. He barely blinked, his face blank as his heart raced in his ears like the hooves of stampede. He'd never pushed the regs, never pushed for more than Jack was willing to give... and yet, as they laid on the couch together, catching their breath and riding out the aftershocks of hormones and release, Jack'd wasted no time freezing him out.

 _Should've known something was wrong; he kept looking up at me like he was drowning..._ Daniel realized with a start that he was sitting in the parking garage of his apartment complex, the lights yellowing his white, clenching knuckles. The intermittent blasts of his horn as he pummeled the steering wheel did nothing to relieve the awful pressure welling up in him; neither did the frustrated tears spattering the thighs of his chinos.

"Don't come over next Friday."

Daniel rolled his eyes, pressing his forehead comfortably against Jack's neck, chin moving against a muscled shoulder, "But you always complain that I don't have cable; why the sudden change of heart?"

Jack didn't answer right away and Daniel grinned a bit -- afterglow usually got the best of him when he bottomed, too, and this was only the second time Jack'd asked him to... _Make love to him?_ Daniel snorted out loud, thinking of the look Jack would give him if he'd called it that in the moment.

"No. I mean we can't... spend time alone together anymore."

Daniel propped himself up on one elbow, peering at Jack's black-brown eyes as they flicked away from him, "...I thought we'd gotten past this guilt trip you always put on yourself?"

He watched tiny muscles under silver stubble jump a couple times before Jack pushed him aside, stood up from the couch and leaned over to pick his pants up. Daniel watched the evidence of their tryst disappear under denim; his eyebrows furrowed as Jack wiped his chest and belly with his t-shirt before dropping it on the coffee table.

"...Jack? You have to tell me what you're thinking or I can't --"

"What you can't do is come here, ever again."

Jack's voice was flat, but Daniel was too smart to be fooled that easily. He scrabbled up off the couch, crammed his glasses on and pulled his own pants on hastily before following Jack into the kitchen, "I know you have doubts, a minefield of them... I get it. But, as I've said before, this isn't --"

Jack slammed a hand on the table, turning his coldest look toward Daniel, " _This_ isn't _anything_ and it's going to end, is ending. It's already over."

Daniel pulled his shirt on, not bothering to button it as he sighed and stared the other man down, "Is this the whole 'I'm your commanding officer' reel again? Or is it the 'We both have careers to consider' angle this time?"

Jack shook his head once, then again before walking to the closet and grabbing Daniel's coat, "It's... dammit it, Daniel, just take your coat and go."

Daniel crossed his arms, jutting his chin up just a bit in the way he always did when he was digging in to hold his ground, "I'm not moving a muscle until you explain yourself. You've tried to do this before and you always end up apologizing for it, feel like an ass in the morning; what makes this different?"

Jack stubbornly held out his jacket, jerking it toward Daniel. The rustling of canvas and his keys in the pocket were nothing compared to the harsh edge in Jack's voice, " _This_ is a mistake I keep getting talked into making. I'm done. Now take your goddamn coat and get out of my house."

Daniel's eyebrows lilted above his glasses -- Jack sounded... different. He stared into the other man's eyes, trying to find a clue, scrutinizing. The coldness he found there disconcerted him and he reached out for his coat, almost automatically, "Jack... if you need time to think, just say. I understand, I do, just tell me --"

Jack slammed his hand on the table again, voice raised, " _No,_ Daniel you _don't_ understand! You're being a stubborn son of a bitch. I don't need time to _do_ anything -- what I need is for you to man up and knock this --" He gestured between the two of them briskly, then threw his hands up, "Off!"

Daniel felt irritation prick at him, and his voice climbed to match Jack's volume, "If I remember correctly, you're the one who started 'this.' If I thought for a second that you're actually having a change of heart, I'd--"

Jack slammed his hands down on the back of a kitchen chair, " _Heart?!_ My heart was never in the equation."

Daniel tried not to let that sting, but it did, more deeply than he'd thought he could still be stung by Jack's recurring doubts and he tugged his jacket on to stall for thoughts. He snapped the zipper up over his bare chest, then snapped at Jack too, "You're a terrible liar, Jack; when you wake up in the morning and feel like shit... as far as I'm concerned right now, you're going to deserve every bit of it."

Daniel took a step back as Jack shoved the chair roughly against the table, "DAMN IT, Daniel! There's not going to _be_ a call because I have nothing to apologize for! You knew there were no strings, we never made any promises; it's time for you to realize that two guys fucking in their offtime doesn't _mean_ anything." The silver haired man walked to the door, whipped it open and gestured with a hand, "Now get the fuck out before I throw you out on your ass!"

The brunette stared Jack in the eyes hard, his whole body going cold before he even felt the fingertips of winter creeping through the doorway. He shoved a hand in his pocket, ripping his keys out as he strode past Jack, only breaking eye contact after snarling, "...Fuck you, Jack."

As he walked toward the door, Jack stepped back, grabbing the back of his kitchen chair again. Daniel waited for him to speak then shook his head as he grabbed the door and slammed it behind him.

The next time they met on base, Daniel didn't even open his mouth to speak -- Jack stared right past him like he was invisible and it resurfaced feelings the brunette'd wrestled what that next morning after their fight.

He'd laid in bed for hours, even when his head began to pound from lack of caffeine, staring at the January sunlight crawling across his bedspread, waiting. By noon, he'd only made it to the kitchen and squinted as he watched the dark dribble of coffee fill the carafe, trying as hard as he could not to think of Jack's eyes -- or the crescendo of ache in his chest.

Their silence wasn't lost on Sam or Teal'c as they all geared up together that day, mere minutes after Jack'd walked by Daniel without a blink. By the time their footsteps rang up the ramp to the Stargate, neither man'd offered an explanation of the iceberg shifting between them and everyone assumed they'd just been butting heads again, as per usual.

Weeks went by, missions bleeding together; Jack never stopped speaking to Daniel completely, but still only addressed the younger man when the job demanded it. It hurt Daniel, of course, but he was grateful for it in a small way -- he wasn't sure he could keep his temper under control if Jack acted completely as if nothing had happened.

The closest thing to normal they reached as the weeks stretched into months was the occasional sarcastic comment, the average disobeyed orders, clipped status-quo glares.

Daniel did his best to barrel away from the pain: delved further into work, taking his lunches in his office to avoid facing the cafeteria talk. Jack seemed so relaxed, so... _himself_... as time marched on, but Daniel couldn't find his way back to the joking rivalry they'd had. Not when he still woke up gasping from searing-hot dreams of the two of them that inevitably resulted in him laying awake in bed, coming into his own hand before coming down out of the clouds, hard. He'd clean himself up mechanically, blinking repeatedly in the dark and hanging his head over what felt like a sucking chestwound.

Ever since that weekend, Daniel spent his Friday nights at the SGC, immersed in language and symbols, drinking too much coffee -- and this week was no exception. Though he recognized Jack's footsteps past his office every time, he never looked up, never wanted to see the profile stamped on his heart passing by on a stranger's body.

He was so practiced at not letting the noise stab into his core, he didn't notice the pattern stop this time; didn't look up to see Jack peering through the partway open door at him with eyes dark, churning like tide pools.

Jack steeled himself; he'd watched Daniel grow thinner with time. Not so much his body -- though the dark circles under those blue eyes never seemed to disappear, even after days of leave -- but more a dimming of the thick, earnest light that had always emanated from the archaeologist.

Jack couldn't help but kick himself, hard, every time he watched Daniel walk into the briefing room with his coffee; even before they'd slept together the first time, the brunette always had a sheepish smile for him, some soft comment about needing his coffee, sorry for being late, where were we now? 

_Where are_ you _now, Daniel?_ he'd always think as Daniel asked he same question but kept his eyes on the folder in front of him.

He'd hoped the man would move on, move past his... love? Their love? Jack put a hand up to press the door office door open, then paused, curling his fingers into a fists: _More like your love, you selfish old prick._

In the months since that shitshow in his kitchen, he'd done his best to stuff away the emotions that'd been slowly but surely taking him over. He was almost back to the point where he could watch over them all equally in the field, where Daniel's every exclamation out of sight didn't make his body flood with worried adrenaline. Almost. The efficiency with which he'd pulled away from Daniel was boring a hole of self-loathing into him too deep to fill up with thoughts of putting his team and responsibilities first.

He'd been observing SG1, noticing how both Samantha and Teal'c seemed to watch over Daniel more than they would any other person who stood in on the team -- it had relieved him, to know that they acknowledged his glaring civilianhood... but also made his stomach clench. The four of them were closer than any military team had any right to be. It had always gotten them through wildly hopeless situations, had made them the one team that always pulled through; Jack was starting to worry it might also be what ultimately killed one or all of them.

As he watched Daniel close off, fold up as the seasons changed, he also watched his team begin to weaken, doubling his unease. Daniel had been getting a bit more absentminded and reckless each time they went offworld. The stress of it was wearing on the other two, as well -- enough that Teal'c had cornered him, after this last mission, and said firmly, "I believe it is time you travel to the end with Daniel Jackson in regards to his deteriorating state."

Jack had raised an eyebrow, quipping, "That's 'get to the bottom,' Teal'c, buddy."

Teal'c cocked his head to the side, just a bit, no amusement visible as he folded his hands together behind his back. Jack sighed, giving the jaffa that tight grin he usually reserved for unwelcome news of imminent and unavoidable Tok'ra contact, "You're right. And I will."

Teal'c's voice was steady as he said shortly, "He was immersed in a translation as I passed his office to locate you."

Jack pushed a hand back through his hair. He nodded and turned, heading back toward Daniel's office even as the demand in Teal'c voice and dread dogged his heels.

Daniel started, spilling his coffee on his current translations as Jack knocked on the door, opening it at the same time, "Daniel?"

The brunette cursed, unrolling a long sleeve to swipe at the papers, trying to salvage them. He couldn't speak past the lump in his throat -- he couldn't remember the last time Jack had called him by his first name on base and it somehow stung more than his surname. As he tried reflexively to block out memories of his name falling breathlessly from between Jack's lips, he was aware of the man standing at the edge of his desk, hands in his pockets; realized abruptly that he couldn't keep shuffling papers to stall for time when the other man could obviously see there was no more coffee to mop up.

He didn't have any trouble keeping his voice low and tired when he replied, "Can I help you?"

Jack winced a bit at the exasperated tone, but pressed forward anyway, "How long has it been since you got a good night's sleep?"

Daniel looked up at him for a split second, face incredulous and then stood up, maneuvering around Jack to get to his coffee pot. He watched the last black, burnt dregs stumble into his mug and cleared his throat, "I'm fit for the field, if that's what you're wondering. Janet's been on my case about it for--" _Just about as long as this divide opened..._ "Months, but I've always been cleared for duty."

He turned around, resting the small of his back on the counter and crossing an arm over his chest as he took a sip of coffee. He made a small face, looking into the mug and then up at Jack -- the man looked... normal. Fine. As hard and healthy and attractive as he'd ever been. Daniel couldn't help but feel anger, fueled by jealousy and loss; his lips twitched over a viciously flat question, "Having doubts, Colonel?"

Jack felt a twitch in his face at the pointed question and sat back, perching on the edge of Daniel's desk and crossing his legs at the ankle, lost for words. Then his mouth was speaking before his mind had a chance to edit, "Well, you look like you could use a night off. You up for a drink?"

Daniel felt that wound in his chest give a lurch -- a couple years ago, it'd started, just like this: same office, similar concern, exact question. He stared at Jack, his eyebrows pulling together as he struggled to regain the ground Jack'd just unconsciously wrenched from him with another shitty comment, "No strings attached?"

Jack cringed fully this time -- he knew he deserved it, hell, knew he deserved more. He had been trying to do the right thing and he wasn't used to it blowing up in his face so badly -- it was second nature, in social messes, for him to resort to sarcasm and playing dumb. He stood up off the edge of the desk, clearing his throat and rejecting both options, "No strings. Just drinks."

Daniel set his coffee mug down, pulling his coat on as he made a decision and replied tightly, "McHugh's in fifteen minutes?"

Jack blinked, relief clouding his healthy doubt that Daniel'd give in so easily, "Uh, yeah. Yeah, McHugh's works. Wanna ride --"

Daniel clicked his desk lamp off, plunging them into a darkness slit down the middle by the light pouring in from the hallway. He was halfway out the door as he answered, "No thanks, I'll meet you there." Then Jack was standing in the slice of light, alone in the office, listening to Daniel dig his keys out as he walked down the hall toward the elevator.

Jack was nestled in the booth, one hand wrapped around the neck of a beer -- the bar was fairly full, but he knew Daniel'd know where to find him. He took a small drink before ticking the drink down, carefully peeling at the label, thinking about how he always teased Daniel about the same nervous habit. Then he was thinking about the way Daniel'd tease him in the dark, pinching his chest with those same hands. 

Jack gritted his teeth and forced himself to stop picking at the paper. He'd been relieved when he walked in and found their booth empty, but as he looked up, out at the slamming November rain, he felt the word 'their' stab at him like a hypodermic.

Daniel drove toward the bar, almost out of forgotten reflex, his heart hammering in his chest. He knew there was no way he was meeting up with Jack, just as he knew he couldn't pick out any one emotion to feel completely -- anger, hurt, desire and hope all yelled at him, buffeting him in a hurricane he'd convinced himself these last months would blow itself out over time. As he sat at the streetlight half a block up from McHugh's, he stared at the yellow light spilling out onto the sidewalk, even through the downpour and clenched his jaw.

He could see the booth in his mind's eye, could see Jack sitting facing the door, waiting; he blinked hard as he thought of the wry grin Jack always used to give him when Daniel'd walk in and slip between bodies toward him.

When the traffic light turned green, he locked his eyes forward and drove past without slowing down.

Jack finished his first beer and started a second, doubt gabbling at him louder and louder with every sip. He didn't like the feeling of rejection, even for a couple drinks; he couldn't begin to fathom how Daniel'd felt, the night he'd done his best to throw the brunette out of his personal life.

Daniel counted the swipes of the windshield wipers as he drove home, foot pressing on the pedal harder than normal in the first stirrings of the breakdown he'd been doing his damndest to hold off for months. When he parked, he shot out of his car, damn near ran to the elevator and stabbed the button for his floor just as a growling sob forced his heart up into his throat.

As Jack took his first drink of his third beer, he had to admit to himself that Daniel wasn't coming, wasn't meeting him for drinks, much less apologies. The colonel had always held his booze better than the brunette, but he still felt heavy, almost dizzy as the gravity of what he'd done gained volume. He stood abruptly, leaving the fresh beer and a twenty dollar bill on the table, pulling his coat on as he pushed through the crowd toward the door.

Daniel made it into his apartment, stumbling over the transition between hallway carpet and tile, cursing as he bumped up against the entryway wall. He shed his coat, biting back sobs; he ripped his shoes off savagely, throwing them on the floor next to his discarded outerwear and slammed the door. He dropped his glasses on the counter, swiping at his eyes angrily, and rounded the kitchen island to grab the first bottle of wine he could wrap his fingers around.

His hands shook as he plucked a glass from the drying rack; his shoulders shook as he struggled with the corkscrew. He gasped as he slipped, gouging the soft pad of his hand just enough to draw a small well of blood with the point before growling and jamming it home. He watched the steel screw bury itself in the cork and felt an answering spiral dragging him to pieces in his head.

Jack took a couple wrong turns through road construction on the way to Daniel's apartment, shaking his head and feeling his anger grow with each wasted moment. He'd always been a man of action and tonight was no exception -- there was no going back, he knew that now, and it was all or nothing; honesty, now or never.

Never again could he look at Daniel and see a clumsy geek, not when the memory of Daniel's graceful, naked spine arching was stamped into his grey matter. He couldn't sit in the briefing room another moment, waiting, watching as Daniel kept those baby blues glued to the manila file folder; not when he'd seen the honeyed after-glow warmth of them, inches from his own. _No,_ he thought savagely to himself, _not just afterglow. Love._ Love he'd done his best to crush, to freeze solid, to gouge out one sarcastic comment at a time. He just hoped he hadn't been too stubborn for too long.

He parked out front, loping up, whipping the door open and forgoing the elevator in favor of the stairs, that four letter word banging through his head with each echoing bootfall.

Daniel was sitting at his piano, head pressed against the cool wood as he stared down at the keys; more specifically, at his tears, beading on the white ones, slipping down off the rounded tops of the black ones to disappear.

He'd hoped, in the beginning, that Jack would change his mind. He'd planned to forgive him, of course, but not until he was sure he'd communicated exactly what he wanted. _And what was it that you exactly wanted? A promise? Some kind of commitment? ...Love?_ Daniel snorted bitterly, pushing his sore palm across the keys in a discordant rumble, not wanting to stare at the evidence of the wound his past naivety had afforded him.

He'd known, going in, that it wouldn't be easy. Jack wasn't an easy man to work with, much less be in... Daniel pushed his hand against the keys again, lip curling at the twinge in his palm. Whatever was developing would be touch-and-go as well, he'd known that. DADT aside -- Jack had never been one to discuss his personal life. Daniel'd thought, at first, that it was because Jack didn't have much of one to speak to, but had realized over time that Jack played his cards close to his chest on purpose, kept his social life and work firmly separated.

It hadn't bothered Daniel too much even in the beginning to walk that fence and, as the years went on, he started to enjoy it, even -- as long as he knew he'd end up at Jack's for the weekend, knew they'd spend the nights in each other's arms and the days exploring breweries, parks, hiking trails... It almost made their professional relationship seem like a game, a dance that always ended with a laughing embrace.

Daniel was laughing alright, but the sound was cold and thinned quickly into muffled, lip-bitten sobs.

Jack was panting by the time he reached Daniel's door, his shirt sticking to his back under his leather jacket as he skidded to a stop. He heard Daniel's laughter, interspersed with downright tortured gasps and the older man didn't even blink as he opened the door, nearly tripping over the brunette's discarded jacket and shoes.

He stormed through the entryway but stopped cold in his tracks as he spotted Daniel's shaking shoulders, oxford shirttails hanging open on either side as he held his stomach and howled laughter at the impassive piano. Daniel couldn't help himself, couldn't stop his reaction at hearing the man come in. He leaned over the keys with a slam of notes as he stood up; planted his hands on the piano-top, trying to catch his breath as another round of laughter, this time disbelieving instead of broken, overtook him.

Jack was on him in a second, wrapping his arms around Daniel from behind, pulling the man tight against him as he clenched his jaw. He noticed the half-full bottle of wine, the empty glass next to it sporting a small smear of blood and growled in his ear, "Danny -- christ -- why's there blood--?"

Daniel slumped against the hard chest behind him, knocking the backs of his knees on the piano bench as the laughter peaked, "Nicked myself -- with the -- ha! The cork -- ha! -- corkscrew!"

Jack turned him around, more roughly than he'd intended to, and the piano bleated again as he pushed the other man back against it and grabbed at his hands, trying to inspect the damage. Daniel hissed at the hard edge pressing against his spine, the strain of it cutting his laughter off neatly as he struggled against Jack's inspection, "Jack, dammit, it's not bad, I'm fine -- get off me."

Daniel's tear-darkened eyelashes punched Jack in the gut and he let the twitching hands go only long enough to trap the brunette's head in callused hands and kiss him, hard, pouring what breath hadn't been knocked out of him out into the younger man.

Daniel jerked at first, as if he'd been slapped, then shoved at Jack's torso, eyebrows drawing together and a growl rising in his chest. He twisted his head to the side, gasping out a curse, before Jack turned him back forcefully, locking his mouth back over Daniel's. The brunette surged forward with all his strength, forced Jack to step backward -- but the silver-haired man kept ahold of his head, even when the kiss broke to pieces.

Jack surged back toward the brunette like the tide, silent with doubled force, his conscience squirming at the way Daniel yelped, stretched painfully over the piano and hands scrabbling over keys to find enough purchase to relieve the pressure on his spine.

"Shit -- that hurts! Jack, fuck-- fucking let me go!"

Jack kicked the piano bench away with one foot, pinning his torso to Daniel's as he leaned in hard, pressing them closer together. His heart was slamming, he was still panting from the run and kiss as he growled, hands pressing at the younger man's shoulders hard, "No, I won't, ever again." Then he sealed his mouth over Daniel's slightly-swollen lips again.

Daniel gasped at the pain, gasped again at the words just before the kiss. If he'd been in his right mind, he would have rolled his eyes and raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the cliched statement, but now, confused, sputtering and half-drunk on wine and despair, the words went straight to his heart without so much as a by-your-leave. As Jack kissed him, tried to climb inside him, Daniel found himself groaning, the love he'd tried to starve out flooding back ravenous as he pulled his legs up and wrapped them around Jack's waist. Some of the pressure came off his back and as the kiss continued, his hands carded through silver silk.

He gripped the other man's hair after a few seconds, hard, pulling their lips apart roughly to hiss, "Is that a promise, Jack?"

Jack sucked in a breath, feeling Daniel's gaze slip right into him and squeeze his lungs -- he saw the cerulean pools swirling with relief, honesty, somehow... somehow maybe even love, still. _Still, after everything I..._ Jack spoke, his voice as low and sincere as the day he uttered his vows to his wife, all those years ago: "Yes, Daniel, god yes. I promise -- won't take you for granted, won't pull any more stupid shit, try my damnedest not to hurt you anymore."

Daniel pulled him in for a hard, short kiss and canted his hips as he spoke against Jack's saliva-slick lips, "Then let me up off the piano, I need to --"

Jack stepped back, feeling a profound stab of loss as Daniel took his legs from around his waist; we watched the as the other man leaned up and away from the piano. Jack's mind was a whirlwind of questions, of guilt, but the eye of the storm was bright and hard and took the shape of fascinated hope. He'd meant everything he said and closed his eyes for a moment, something very close to a prayer rising in his chest for the first time in years. _Please, let Daniel forgive me; I'll do whatever it takes, I'll give every--_

He wasn't expecting it in the least when Daniel's fist connected with his jaw, hard, and he stumbled back, landing on the couch with a breathless exclamation as pinpricks of light swam in his vision. His heart dropped out of his chest as he peered up, face throbbing as Daniel stood over him.

The brunette shook his hand out at his side, voice low and muttering, "Head's even harder than I thought..."

Jack massaged his jaw, opening his mouth to speak, to explain, to try and convince Daniel we was serious. He snapped his mouth shut at the flick of blue pinning him down, swallowed hard: _Hell, who am I kidding, I'll get on my knees and beg if that's what it takes._

He hadn't managed to get a word out, though, before Daniel was on top of him, straddling his hips, hand knotted in his hair and pulling his head back to expose the length of his throat. Those blue eyes were like molten glass, bright, moving slowly and inexorably over Jack's face and the colonel clenched his fists against the couch cushions, forcing himself to stay open, not letting the all-too-familiar blast doors of anger slam down.

Then Daniel leaned in, planting an open mouthed kiss on Jack's pulse, his adam's apple, his jaw before sitting up to look down into the older man's eyes again, voice hard and distant, "That's for making me think you didn't feel the same way I did." Jack's mouth dropped open, hands coming up to... to... The older man had no idea what he'd been planning to do as Daniel let go of his hair to throw lanky arms around him.

As the brunette buried his face in the familiar crook of shoulder and neck and took a deep breath, Jack could hear the smile in the younger man's voice, "And this is for finally letting me know you feel the same way I still do." Jack responded automatically, limbs drifting down to close gratefully around Daniel's torso -- his arms were still and strong even as he blinked hard at the burning moisture springing into his eyes above a trembling smile.


End file.
